The white light washed out the town in a bright haze.
Rushing to the window, she peered out trying to find its source. A tower of light rushed flat across the sky overhead, bright as the sun.
She watched it slowly disappear over the horizon seconds before the ground shook. She thought it was an earthquake; she clung to the wall and slid to her knees, covering her head with one arm.
But soon it stopped, and immediately she jumped out of the restaurant and ran to her car, driving off with a loud guzzle.
When Mongolia arrived, she finally met her European friend, fresh from an archeological hunt. He sighed, his face drawn as he met her. Telling her he had just spent months in the desert and found nothing.
He brightened up as he remember their deal. “You’re gonna love Europe. Much more exciting than the empty expanses of Russia.”
Now she was an old woman, resting safely in her chair in the home they’d put her in. She still remembered that bright light following her around Europe, glaring over her holiday for days, an ever-present reminder of the horror she felt, even now, from that day.